Roughing It
by genericnamehere
Summary: Finding themselves lost in the middle of the swamplands of Georgia, Australia and Canada will think twice before they ever call America a city boy again. Implied US/Australia/Canada


Roughing It

They should have been home hours ago. In fact, they never should have left. America was a complete and total idiot. What kind of moron gets lost on his own lands? What kind of moron even ponders wandering into the depths of the "Deep South?"

And what possessed Canada to follow him?

"It's going to get dark soon, mate. We have to stop wasting time and get shelter and food. Don't you know anything about surviving in the bush?"

Canada's nose wrinkled as he stepped in another patch of slick mud. This was nothing like the "bush" that Australia was referring to.

"But I know that if we keep walking we'll manage to get out of here!"

Ah, right. It was because America had asked Canada to itrust/i him. Canada never learned that when America asked you to do that, it was precisely the time you shouldn't. Apparently neither had Australia.

Canada glanced over at the two, who were discussing the merits of continuing on or stopping for the day. It seemed like Australia was gaining ground on America though, as the other had started scanning the area.

"And just where are we gonna sleep, huh? There's gators out here!"

"You're worried about that of all things? You really are a city boy, mate. You'd last about as long as a fart in a blizzard, and maybe not even that long."

"…We're in the middle of the swamps in Alabama. They don't have blizzards here!"

Canada sighed. He heard something snap behind them and turned, watching what had to be a turtle on steroids emerging from the bushes. "America…" It was walking right toward them. What was with the spikes on its shell?

America looked over and blinked. "Oh hey! Gator snapper, you never see them anymore." He frowned. "We must be near its nest." He looked at Australia. "All the more reason to keep moving."

Australia shrugged. "Alright then…" He turned, pushing further into the swamp. "Geez. 'Oh, let's go for a walk in the woods, then you'll see I'm not just a city slicker. I know everything about this place.' Bollocks! And how do you get off talking about my animals when you have things like that crawling about?"

Canada sighed as he followed the two. That was the start of the whole mess, wasn't it? It had all started the day before, when America had invited them to his New York City apartment for a 'brolaxing day.' There had been a special on the television about dangerous animals in Australia, which had gotten the three of them talking about their respective terrains. Beer was involved; one thing led to another, and soon Canada and Australia were calling America a wussy city boy. Which, of course, he was. (Lately, anyway.) Australia spent the time that he wasn't working in his home on the Outback. Canada got away from the city by going to a cabin in the mountains of Alberta. And America? He made the big trek from his home in D.C. to the very apartment they had been sitting in. America never did take criticism well, even of the drunken bullshit variety.

And now, here they were; lost in the middle of a swamp in Bumblefuck, Georgia. It was stupid and ridiculous and it just figured that Canada would get dragged into America's mess again.

"Your stuff is way worse than mine! You have worms that can kill you! I don't see why you're getting so upset over a harmless turtle!" America pushed out into small clearing amongst the trees. "I think we'll be okay here tonight."

Canada turned his attention back to listening to the two as they decided their course of action. "We should find something to cover ourselves with. Aren't the most dangerous things out at night?"

America nodded. "Good plan. You start on that, and me and Oz will go look for something to eat." He started back into brush.

Canada sighed. He should probably start a fire, too. You'd think that he would have learned his lesson about egging on America after struggling to survive a week in Death Valley, but no. He blamed Australia. He brought out the worst in him. That had to be it. 

Two hours later, with a fire prepared to cook whatever they found and adequate cover for the night ready, Canada was starting to get worried. The sun was already beginning its fast descent and there was no sign of America or Australia. Had something happened to them? He jumped as a branch broke behind him and the two nations emerged, each carrying a large catfish. America was soaked from head to toe, and Australia was similarly wet from the waist down.

"Check it out, Canada! This should feed us tonight AND tomorrow morning." America grinned as he brought his fish over, setting it down.

Canada looked up at them. They had absolutely nothing to go fishing with. "How did you manage that?"

Australia shrugged. "Bloke just dove in and came back up with a fish. Said something about noodles."

America sat down, pulling off his shirt to wring it out. "Noodling. You dive down to the bottom, stick your hand in a catfish's hole that it hides in, and pull it out." He grimaced as he looked at bite marks around his wrists. "And, of course, hope you don't find a water moccasin or something using the hole instead. That would have sucked."

Canada stared at the two as they started stripping down to let their clothes dry. "You're a bunch of idiots."

America stuck his tongue out as he laid out his pants and shirt by the fire. "You're just mad I actually know how to do something like that. I bet you thought that I'd have to ask Ozzie to get us something."

Australia smirked as he laid out his own clothes. "I dunno, Canada. I think we have to drop the city boy accusations."

Canada shook his head as he picked up a fish, getting it ready to go over the fire.

The next morning, Canada cracked his eyes open and glanced over at his camping partners. Still clad in only their boxers, they had huddled around each other for warmth in their sleep. He sat up, pushing off the makeshift cover and wrinkling his nose. He was a total mess.

He shook his head and moved back over to the fire to build it back up again. He looked over at the remnants of their fish and frowned. They should have known that it would be foraged overnight. It was all the more reason to just wake up the other two and get moving again. Maybe they could get out before it started getting too hot again.

Canada picked up the piles of clothes and blinked as a pair of boxers fell from his arms. He glanced back over at the other two. "…" Before he could say anything, there was rustling in the bushes. He jumped and turned, looking over as a man emerged.

"What are you doing out here? Don't you know this is federally protected land? You can't just come out here and start up campfires!" He frowned. "One of the tour guides smelled your fire, so we were investigating, since there are no obvious signs of any widespread fires. You're lucky it didn't get out of control with the weather we've been having lately."

Canada looked at the man, then looked at the other two sleeping nations. "Sorry. We didn't want to do it, but we got lost. I'll put it out and then we can go, but…" He turned back to the man again. "Can we just leave them here a bit longer?"

That would teach them better than to not include him when they decided to go at it. 


End file.
